


I - You

by Ammar



Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-25 12:52:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3811201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ammar/pseuds/Ammar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Qui-Gon speaks into a voice-recorder. A glimpse at what was going on between <i>Cloak of Deception</i> and <i>The Phantom Menace</i>. And a glimpse at Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I - You

**Author's Note:**

> Was on the bus with the Assassin's Creed: Embers voiceover running through my head when this happened. So I don't own the Ezio dialogue bits, obviously. As a hint, just about everything in the first log entry is from the Embers voiceover. But it gets better.

**Audio-Log [JMQX-2187v] -- 0013 CST**  
  
When I was a young man, I had liberty, but I did not see it. I had time, but I did not know it. And I had love, but I did not feel it.   
  
I cannot seem to leave my past behind me.   
  
And I know that at any moment, death could come for me. Or for my Padawan.   
  
I knew I would not have enough time to do everything. Now I worry I do not have enough time to do anything.   
  
>/end;   
  
  
**Audio-Log [JMQX-2092q] -- 0246 CST**  
  
**[replay]**   
  
I went to meet Dexter and Nal’Krusha after Obi-Wan had slipped out for his nightly training sessions. He’s been working harder since Nar Shaddaa. Trying to recover mobility in his wounded leg, no doubt.   
  
Gershom tried to raise me on my comlink earlier. Likely about Obi-Wan’s progress. [sigh] I’ll have to speak to him later. Tomorrow.   
  
Still nothing except shadows and whispers. Nal’Krusha is at a loss and Dexter has heard little except for rumours. Street gossip, nothing more. Still, the Senate shootings were far too neat. Something’s missing. I need to focus on the here and now. What is it?   
  
The Nebula Front. The official investigation has pinned it all on the Nebula Front. Arwen Cohl was double-crossed. We know that now. Snares within snares. Traps within traps. But to what end? And who is the one baiting us?   
  
I gave Nal’Krusha the investigation reports. If I’m missing something, perhaps his eyes will see it.   
  
  
**Audio-Log [JMQX-2101p] -- 0137 CST**  
  
**[replay]**  
  
[most of the recording has been corrupted]   
>recover data?   
>y /execute;   
>recovering…

**[play]**

[crackle of a comlink, static]  
  
>trace caller code?   
>y /runtrace;   
>tracing…   
>2 matches found;   
>disp(“match 01”);   
>JESSE CAIRWELL, CRS00781263847n   
>SPECIES: HUMAN  
>OCCUPATION: MECHANIC  
>DISPLAY ADDRESS?   
>/abort;   
>disp(“match 02”);   
>EZRA-NAL’KRUSHA, CRS30491664451s   
>SPECIES: ZABRAK   
>OCCUPATION: CSF LIEUTENANT   
>CLASSIFIED FILE   
>STATUS: DECEASED   
>RUN SEARCH?   
>/abort;   
>/end;   
  
Qui-Gon. I’ve tried to reach you over your comlink…[undecipherable words, perhaps ‘but this will have to do’?] Find me at the intersection when my shift ends. [Pause, or gap in recording] …not going to like it, I’m sorry. This is important.   
  
_I know who he is_ .  
  
  
**Audio-Log [JMQX-2174k] -- 0357 CST**  
  
**[replay]**   
  
Nal’Krusha’s dead.   
  
Everywhere we turn in this investigation, there is a dead end. Someone turns up dead. Witnesses turn up missing, forms are misplaced.   
  
Even a Jedi can only believe in so many concidences. Someone doesn’t want something to be found. Nal’Krusha was close. I was close.   
  
Nal’Krusha is dead. I almost died. There is no way of knowing if there is a connection but skilled bounty hunters don’t come cheap and even a CSF Lieutenant usually doesn’t make expensive foes.   
  
Harfel believes a Black Sun connection. I can’t step in and take the investigation. CSF is reluctant to give up a case involving one of its own and Obi-Wan still hasn’t fully recovered. I spoke with Gershom.

[pause] I’m not as young as I used to be. The bounty hunter was young and skilled and he almost had me when I tired. The old wound in my side was starting to pain me again. Sometimes I wonder if--  
  
[interrupted; another voice in the background]

>run voiceprint analysis?  
>n /contplayback;   
  
Master?   
  
**[end playback]**  
  
  
**Audio-Log [JMQX-2179w] -- 2318 CST**  
  
**[replay]**  
  
Master Yoda has a mission for us. The Trade Federation has put in place a blockade about Naboo. The Supreme Chancellor has agreed to send a Jedi team to broker a peace.   
  
Obi-Wan…is restless. A mission will do us both some good. A routine negotiation, and a welcome return back to diplomacy instead of hostage rescue or breaking up crime rings. He knows that he will take the Trials before long. I’ll have to see about speaking to the Council after Naboo.   
  
Perhaps I should have spoken to the Council before this. Another sign I’m getting old and sentimental. I should have let him go before this. But another mission won’t hurt his readiness.   
  
[pause] I thought of retiring from the active duty roster, as I sat in Gershom’s office and he bandaged my leg. I’m too old to shrug off barbed flechettes to the calf now. Some bacta and I should be fine by the time we reach Naboo, if a little stiff.   
  
[pause] I’m worried. Link after link is turning up missing, and now the Trade Federation moves and our gaze is deflected to Naboo. Are we missing something hidden here and now?   
  
  
**Audio-Log [JMQX-2184i] -- 2344 ORC**  
  
Obi-Wan has left to meditate outside.   
  
I fought a figure on Tatooine, dark in the Force, bristling with aggression and…powerful. The Living Force is strong in him. My only conclusion is that he is the proof of what I have been seeking to present to the Council for so long.   
  
He has been trained in the Jedi Arts. He is a Sith Lord.   
  
I was tiring, leaving openings in my defense that I should not have. He was young, and still fresh even in the desert heat. If Obi-Wan hadn’t seen and taken the ship in…   
  
But that is past. I must focus on the here and now. Is he pursuing the Queen? Or have my questions back on Coruscant provoked a response _here and now?_ How has he tracked us?   
  
There are too many questions. And I suspect there are few answers to be found.

And Anakin. I must speak to the Council about Anakin.  
  
  
**Audio-Log [JMQX-2187v] –- 0013 CST**  
  
**[replay]**   
  
When I was a young man, I had liberty, but I did not see it. I had time, but I did not know it. And I had love, but I did not feel it.   
  
I cannot seem to leave my past behind me.   
  
And I know that at any moment, death could come for me. Or for my Padawan.   
  
Tomorrow, we escort the Queen back to Naboo. Anakin will come with us. If it escalates to war…then I will do everything I can to keep him safe.   
  
[pause] I fear the Sith will be there, waiting for us. Perhaps this is the hand I’ve seen all along, the movements behind the curtain. A Sith Lord. This is what I’ve suspected all along. What I’ve been trying to convince the Council of.   
  
Events have been set into motion. Now they are moving faster than us and all we can do is to be swept along in their wake. Where there is one, there is another. There are always two Sith Lords, and I worry that the other is a foe greater than we know.   
  
Is this where Nal’Krusha’s death is leading to? The Council deliberates; the foe, I worry, is already upon us. It may be too late.   
  
I have what remains of Nal’Krusha’s files. But I know nothing of what he was trying to tell me. A warning. He was trying to deliver a warning. Of what? Of who?   
  
I trust in the Living Force. [pause] But…Obi-Wan. Padawan. I think our time together is drawing to an end. I have thought about it, as I tire, and wondered how much longer I can remain on active duty. Perhaps…my time is coming. There is a darkness in the Force, and I have sensed it for too long, even as I have tried to seek out its source in the Living Force.   
  
I knew I would not have enough time to do everything. Now I worry I do not have enough time to do anything.   
  
Obi-Wan. Whatever happens to me, I want you to know that I do not regret taking you as my Padawan. I never have. Whatever happens, I want you to know that I am infinitely grateful that you are my apprentice—-and I am proud to have been your Master. You will make a good Jedi Knight, my Padawan. I know it.   
  
Trust in your instincts, Obi-Wan. Trust in the Living Force. I have faith in you. There are…[noise, distortion]   
  
>file may be corrupt;   
>run scan?   
>n, /contplayback   
  
There are times…when you will doubt yourself. When you will wonder if you could ever make a good Jedi or a good Master. Yes, you will eventually take your own apprentice, Obi-Wan. And I want you to know that it’s okay to doubt. It’s okay to be anxious. I never thought I could train another apprentice after Xanatos. You taught me…[unintelligible sound, static]…trust can be rebuilt. We can pick ourselves up after we fall.   
  
Obi-Wan, if I can’t be there for you, to see your Trials, to stand by you as equals in the Jedi Order, I want you to know that I—-   
  
[scuffling; possibly footsteps.]   
  
Mister Qui-Gon?   
  
>run voiceprint analysis?   
>/n endplayback;   
>/end;

“Master Kenobi?” the voice called out, roughened and blurred by fatigue. “Are you alright?”  
  
Obi-Wan Kenobi bit back the sobs that threatened to choke up his throat. _Breathe, Padawan,_ the voice at the back of his head said, even as the world blurred and wavered and collapsed inwards on the battered plasteel casing of an old voice-recorder. Blindly, he hit the cancel button, breaking the wireless connection between the voice-recorder and the sterile white screen of the data-terminal.   
  
>SHUT DOWN?   
  
He stabbed at the power button and the terminal blinked and logged off.   
  
“Master?”   
  
All of a sudden, he couldn’t bear to see it any longer. Obi-Wan tugged open the desk drawer and viciously jammed the voice-recorder at the very bottom of the clutter. _There_.   
  
“I’m all right, Anakin,” he said. Jedi discipline kept his voice from trembling like his hands did. He clenched the edge of the desk, feeling moulded durasteel bite into his skin. “Go back to sleep.”


End file.
